7
Sticks and Stones
Max
The door creaks open and the little bell rings, but none of it fills me with the hopeful excitement it used to.
I don’t even lift my head because it’s likely Zayne showing up for his shift thirty minutes early, as he always does.
The guy’s so punctual, it’s as if he has a freaking alarm clock in his veins.
“Hey, you,” he says, joining me in the back office, carrying our dinner in a brown paper bag.
I grunt as a welcome, leaning back in the old wooden swivel office chair that squeaks. I don’t have the means to invest in much right now, but I should probably buy a new chair, especially since Celia, our new bookkeeper uses it, too. “What’s on the menu?”
“Potato leek soup and tuna sandwiches.”
“Extra pickles?”
“Obvs,” he replies as if insulted, and sits down on the dark green couch, taking out the plastic containers and placing them on the tiny wooden coffee table. The incredible scent of his mother’s cooking fills the small room, and my stomach grumbles as I join him and settle in to eat.
“How’s your mom doing? I’m sure she doesn’t like the cut in hours.”
With the low check-in rate, I’ve had no choice but to cut down on employee hours, and Carina, our cook, is no exception. But it’s not like I can have the staff wandering around twiddling their thumbs, either.
Zayne hands me a spoon. “She’s fine, don’t worry about it. Declan’s been keeping her busy. And she’s been making soups,” he says, pointing to the food. “Loads of soup. She’s selling it at Bagel and Bayou.”
“That’s good.” I smile, slipping a spoonful of said soup into my mouth and moaning with delight. “As long as she makes it, I’ll be here to eat it.”
We sit in silence, but Zayne’s penetrating gaze doesn’t lift from his bowl as he stares at the concentric circles he makes with his spoon.
“Speak your mind, Zee.”
He licks the spoon, then points it at me. “Are we not going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“Mitchell Adams was in here, following you around. And you haven’t said a word about it.”
Soon after Mitch left last night, I felt like my blood was on fire and my heart was about to burst. While Zayne was busy on a phone call, I used the distraction as an opportunity to dodge his questions, but that didn’t stop his incessant texts later on.
“There’s a reason I didn’t answer you last night,” I say.
“But I’ve brought you your favorite food, so…”
“Ah, this is a bribe?”
“Not a bribe, per se,” he teases. “Come on, girl. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill. He’s in town to see his dad and for the brewery’s opening.”
Zayne drops his head to the side. “Then why did he come here with you?”
“He didn’t come with me. We took separate cars,” I correct, stabbing my spoon through the air at him, but Zayne rolls his eyes.
“Right, cause that’s what I meant. Something is going on between you two. Something you don’t want to tell me about.”
“Wow Zee, how very observant of you,” I reply, deadpan.
“And the fact that you won’t tell me makes me want to draw my own conclusions.”
“Draw away.”
Zayne lifts his bowl up, stirring his soup like a witch gazing into a cauldron. “Mitchell, the Mitchell, the onetime love of your life—”
“Whoa, he was never the love of my life,” I interrupt, but he ignores me and keeps going.
“Is back in town for a limited time. He’s here to see his father, but his parents own this hotel.
I overheard him say something about money and repairs.
” His lips curl into a slow smile as he looks up at me with wide eyes.
“Aha, the answer is revealed. He wants to fix this place up, but you’d rather he jumped off a cliff. ”
I frown at him, my jaw unintentionally falling slack. “How the hell do you do that?”
“What can I say? I have a gift,” he replies with a shrug. “Sounds to me like his offer is exactly what we need. Why are you against it?”
Stalling, I scrape the bottom of my soup bowl, then tip it up to my mouth to get every drop. “He’s had years to help, but he never bothered. Never even asked about us. He doesn’t care about anything other than himself.”
I’m sure if Mitch had asked, Robyn never would have told him the truth. I love the woman to death, but she’s always overprotected that boy.
“It’s more than that, Max.” Zayne puts his bowl on the table, then leans back against the couch, patting his thighs.
I’ve known Zayne since he was a kid, back when I used to babysit him twice a week while his mother worked night shifts at the hotel.
Once he started working here part time, we became a lot closer, and now he’s my best friend.
More than that, he’s family. As close to me as my brother, Hunter.
A million times closer to me than my sister Tina, who spends her time ignoring us while she lives in Hallstead with her upper-class family.
I sigh, settling my bowl next to Zayne’s, then lean back, dropping my socked feet onto his lap.
He massages my arches. “This has to be messing with you.”
“It’s not messing with me at all.”
Zayne levels me with his doubtful glare. “Should I get a shield for all the bullshit you’re throwing my way?”
“Fuck off.” I drop my head back and focus on the amazing pressure of Zayne’s thumb digging into the flesh of my foot.
Whenever he finds the love of his life, they’ll be the luckiest person in the world, if only because they’ll benefit from the infamous Zayne Cardoso foot rubs.
“I had dinner with Robyn and Bill,” I explain. “Mitch was there. They told us we’re both getting ownership of the inn when Bill…” I let my words drift. Parched, I reach for my water and swallow a few sips.
“They’re giving you the inn?” Zayne asks, his shock obvious.
I nod, worrying my lip between my teeth.
“That’s huge.” With a kind gaze, he watches me as if he’s reading my mind. “But you’re not happy about it.”
“Why would I be happy?”
He looks at me like the answer is obvious. “With Mitch here, you’d have someone to help. To lift some of the burden from your shoulders.”
“Burden? I’m handling things.”
“I’m not saying you’re not. But he could make things a tad easier.” He tilts his head. “Don’t deny it.”
I look away. “Maybe.”
“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s fine as hell, too.” Zayne squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head and biting his lower lip. “You never told me how tall he was. And how… thick.”
“Thick? He’s not thick.” I chuckle, nudging him in the ribs with my free foot.
“Girl, let me tell you what. That boy is a big boy,” he says, tickling my foot.
Once I’m done giggling, I take a deep breath. “I wouldn’t know.”
But I have an idea.
He switches to work on my other foot. “TV does not do him justice.”
“You liked what you saw?” I arch a brow, slightly amused by Zayne’s reaction.
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Meh,” I reply, with a shrug.
“Meh?” His jaw drops as he pinches my toe, forcing me to wriggle. “Maxine Nolan. Only a blind person wouldn’t like that burly package. And you’re absolutely certain he’s straight? Like all the way?”
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You’ve got a crush!”
“No, I’m just saying if you’re not interested, I’ll take him off your hands.”
I reach for my plastic spoon, chucking it at him, but he dodges it with a laugh.
“All right, I get it. He’s all yours. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“He’s not mine,” I insist, tugging my feet out of his lap and sitting up. “He’s never been mine,” I add under my breath.
“But he could be.”
I chortle. “Oh, my dear Zayne. Even if I didn’t hate his guts, which I do, it’s all dead and buried.” I tidy the table, wiping away crumbs and stray spills. “Are you done?” I ask over my shoulder.
He nods, stacking his empty bowl on mine. “You’re telling me that if you two could be more than enemies, you wouldn’t take it?”
“I’m saying that we had a great friendship once, but we were kids. I’m saying he left all that behind without a second thought.”
“You mean he left you behind?”
I jam our trash into the garbage can with a little more force than necessary, trying to ignore the ball of emotions crawling up my throat. “Yeah, I guess he did that, too.”
Zayne sidles up beside me, but I can’t bring myself to look up at him. “You should probably forgive him for that. You know why he did it.”
“We’re beyond all that now.”
I hate nothing more than remembering those days and the events leading up to Mitch leaving. All it does is sour my stomach and fill me with self-loathing. And I promised myself years ago that I wouldn’t keep blaming myself. That I’d moved on.
“It’s not just that he left.” I run my hands through my hair and pace the room. “I hurt him, Zayne. A lot. And I can tell he’s not over it. How could he be?”
“Because he cares about you and it’s been ages?” he offers. “I think you two should talk.”
Though Zayne is usually right, I refuse to even consider what he’s suggesting.
“I’m not saying that will ever happen, but until then, he’s not laying a finger on this place.
It’s a sinking ship and we should abandon it.
” I reach over, grip Zayne’s shoulder, and shake him.
“Hurry, Zee. Get into a lifeboat. Save yourself!”
My joke falls flat as his face remains blank, the seriousness in his gaze stinging. “Nah, something isn’t right.” He takes my hands and holds them. “You’re giving up way too easily. That’s not like you.”
“If Bill… dies,” the word sticks in my throat and I choke it out, “then what’s the point? If they’re leaving it to us, then they care less than I do.”
“But what about Mr. Thick Hockey Player?” he asks, crossing his arms. “If he has the cash and wants to chip in, don’t you think you’d be stupid to refuse? I mean, this is his family’s business, after all.”